


twisted fate

by SilverMoonT



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, First Meetings, M/M, Oral Sex, Prince Osamu, Snake King Suna
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:27:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27840730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverMoonT/pseuds/SilverMoonT
Summary: Strange-looking beasts and animals far from real expectations. Osamu has forgotten that danger can present itself in any form, even in disguise, hidden under graceful facial features and porcelain skin decorated with gold.
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 13
Kudos: 141
Collections: SunaOsa





	twisted fate

**Author's Note:**

> cw there's a description of suffocation/choking but not very detailed, and mentions of blood
> 
> i want to dedicate this fic to radi because she came to my dms with fanart of suna and snakes and one thing led to another and her idea ended up turning into this fic, so thank you radi for letting me write this and for never letting me get over suna hahahaha
> 
> and to fede and andra, thank you for always having so much patience with me

Osamu takes a deep breath. He inhales, thinking that perhaps this is one of the last times he will count with the opportunity to fill his lungs with air as he is still breathing. He is nervous despite having had the chance to die throughout his life. Battles, unexpected attacks, betrayals to the crown, treason. He has seen it all and the beating of his heart indicates that along with his brother, they have always managed to emerge victorious in one way or another, the absence of enemies proving that the rise of any resistance is promptly torn to pieces.

But there’s always a kingdom that doesn’t give up, a realm that chooses to ignore the past and the stories that roar their names and their victories. Someone, a simple person, one rebel crown is enough so that everything that has been achieved is associated with a constant state of alarm. He is scared. He has always thought that he would die in battle, with a sword in hand while at that moment its blade remains sheathed, secured and hanging from his waist; and with his crown on the black strands of his head, the emblem indicating the end of the life of one of the royal figures, a symbol that he chooses to take and look at.

He must always wear it, with pride and confidently, to show why others should bow or kneel when he enters as the prince he is, for his presence to be taken as a demonstration of power and respect. He brushes the silver color of it, and with dedication, for the diamonds to stay free of any type of scratch, he leaves it on a pouch to hang it from his waist, since this time showing the strength of his person is not the correct way to proceed.

He also removes the armor of his hands as a sign of showing that he is not looking to fight or carry out no kind of surprise attack, but to raise his hands as a way of surrender because he believes that he has already lost although he is still alive. The rest of his body is still protected by the silver color of his armor, a shield is not necessary. It’s another kind of protection the one that he, his brother, and the kingdom, need.

Osamu inhales again, wondering why fear is one of his sensations yet running away is not one of the options he takes into account. Perhaps because he knows what awaits him behind the doors in front of him, since he has left his kingdom not to leave his brother alone, but to get what’s on the other side of the doors.

_A monster_ , he has always heard. _A dangerous creature_ , he has been told.

_You must be crazy to go there_ , they have repeated.

But he is not crazy, he is desperate.

And sometimes, being desperate forces you to do crazy things.

The kingdom of Karasuno is beginning to gain territory and with most of the troops sent to Itachiyama they have no defense, so salvation is what they need so that the fall of Inarizaki is not a reality. He doesn’t want his brother to stop being a king in the same way that he doesn’t desire to stop being a prince, leading the life he has, the one that has guided him to that place, provided with rumors and secrets.

It’s the last option left and perhaps for the same reason he is not trembling despite being scared. He feels restless, he knows that crossing the doors and never leaving again is a possibility, and he thinks about it even more considering that not only a few minutes ago he saw a man entering, a person that has not come out yet. He can't hear anything, but he still looks at the wide black doors that loom in front of him. Perhaps he will never see the sun or his brother's face again, hear the laughter of his friends or taste one last meal.

He is prepared to die if his kingdom needs him to only because he has sought the last option, and if he has to die, he knows that he has done it in honor of the kingdom that, as he is demonstrating, he is willing to protect until his last breath.

A powerful and remorseless king, that's what awaits him.

_The King of Snakes._

A monster of incomprehensible powers that nobody seeks to disturb because he doesn’t like to waste his time with useless people and their pointless words, which for Osamu explains the absence of people around him. He has not seen servants, there are no guards. He can only hear his own breathing, certainly ragged but still alive.

He doesn’t know how danger will present itself to him.

Many eyes, none, an unimaginable size, small.

Osamu rubs his hands together, and the doors open.

He forces himself not to bring his hand to his sword even if he is used to carrying out that action when he can feel the threat approaching, and blinks before moving from his place, finally changing the environment and looking around when what he finds are six black columns, three on each side, one behind the other, the last two on a platform.

At the back of the hall, stones seem to have fallen forming a zigzag, but Osamu soon realizes that this is not a coincidence or fallen stones, but sculpted to form scales, and his eyes quickly follow the form of it until a giant snake’s head made of stone is what his eyes see, with its fangs out and its eyes static.

He keeps lowering his gaze to see what is found underneath the snake, and a throne as black as all the decorations in that place is what he encounters. Unlike the serpent made of stone, several snakes are camouflaged with the details of the throne, still moving and therefore being visible to him, but his attention can’t be rested in the hiss of those when he blinks and his lips part once he finally meets the danger in front of him.

His eyes are not amazed at the presence of a beast, but a human face.

Pale skin, defined eyes, and dark brown hair that bears a diadem made of thin snakes of gold.

Osamu blinks. One, two, three times.

All the rumors he has heard are thrown out of his head when he sees a person possibly the same age as him, sitting on the throne with one leg on top of the other, leaning towards one of the armrests, looking at him with a completely bored expression as lips remain forming a line free of all tension.

"Wow." His mouth just falls open. "You are..." _Lethal_. "Beautiful."

Perhaps he is already hallucinating as the time of his death is probably close, but if he has to choose an adjective to describe the person in front of him, then he believes that _beautiful_ is the right choice. He gives himself the permission to replace any type of seriousness with a not entirely innocent smile.

If he is to die, he has at least had a chance to observe such beauty before leaving the world.

A look of mistrust is what he gets, but said reaction is quickly followed with a genuine laugh that interrupts any trace of silence that his words might have caused. The person in front of him laughs, holds an entertaining smile as if Osamu had decided to start the conversation with the help of funny words, and his gesture gives Osamu the opportunity to realize that one of his cheeks is stained with traces of blood, to remind him that he has never seen the person before him leave that place.

"It's certainly been a while since someone has decided to compliment me in such bold form."

The mention of that phrase gets Osamu to rest his eyes on him again. "Forgive me." He says, his bow being immediate once he understands that he has forgotten to perform that movement with his head.

"I didn’t mean for my words to be taken as a complaint."

Osamu raises his head and glimpses a lip lift.

"I am, I was—I am amazed. I waited for a monster to appear before me."

All hint of a smile quickly fades.

"You all always make the same mistake."

Osamu doesn’t wish his presence to be associated with a new sign of disrespect, so he rests one of his knees on the ground and his hand on it when the throne is abandoned. He has been so taken aback that he has certainly forgotten the fact that danger can appear in any form. Beasts, animals. He has waited for it. Danger in disguise, hidden under graceful facial features, he didn’t consider that option.

"My head hosts no horns." A body thinner and paler than his comes down the first step that separates the platform from the rest of the place, a black snake interrupting paleness after finding itself wrapped around one arm. "My back holds no wings." Shoulders are covered with an armor made of golden scales. "My teeth are not sharp to be considered fangs."

Osamu lowers his eyes to find a loose black silk bodysuit that allows him to see long legs and well as a thick gold anklet and feet that slide on the cold of the ground, each movement being accompanied by snakes that have left the throne to act as guardians; a plunging neckline that lets him visualize a stain of blood on the exposed skin of his chest.

He is not surprised with the pronunciation of the next words.

"But I still am a monster, that's how your kind perceives me."

Osamu rests his gaze on the ground. He believes that looking up is not the correct action even though approaching snakes are his sight.

"Then I must start paying attention to the reality in front of me and stop believing stories of monsters under the beds."

"In bed I would say, if I must be honest."

The King of Snakes moves beside him, and Osamu forces himself to remain still even though the armor protecting his shoulder is brushed with a hand. "Are you not afraid of me?" He listens, and a hiss near his ear assures him that the snake he had previously seen around one arm is now sliding down through his nape and shoulders. "Of us?"

Osamu is aware that his life can end at any moment, that from one second to the next he can become one of the other people who will not cross those doors again, breathing and with his heart beating, so he thinks that being dishonest has no sense.

"I am." He confesses.

One second is the time the King stops behind him, but Osamu notices the movement.

Perhaps his honesty has surprised him.

Again he resumes the pace and Osamu is forced to raise his head not only when his visual field is finally occupied and eyes as golden as green are his main sight, a sharp gaze surrounded by black lines and scales of the hue of his eyes; but also because his access to air is suddenly and partially restricted when the snake wraps its tail around his neck.

With his knees on the ground and his hands comfortably rested in his own lap, the King tilts his head and looks at him.

"Are you afraid of death?"

One movement and one second will be enough but Osamu does not lower his gaze. He doesn’t allow the difficulty in breathing to show on his face, to define the seriousness of his expression. Over the years he has learned that showing fear doesn’t make sense in the same way that that idea can coexist with accepting to be scared. Enemies always seek to effect fear, to look for a trace of it in the gray pupils of his eyes, but Osamu has grown up refusing to grant it.

His hand on his knee becomes a fist when the snake tightens its grip around his skin.

"Will ya kill me?" He manages to ask, his voice barely making itself heard. "Who will express nice words to ya then?"

"You are not the first to be brave and stupid enough to think that trying to buy me with the help of nice words is the right way to deal with me."

"But I'm..." The grip on his neck tightens. "But I am the first to say nice words with no ulterior motive."

A narrowed look is what he gets.

"I suppose you're right."

A hand gesture is enough to make the pressure around his neck disappear and a quick and exaggerated inhale of air is what he seeks. He licks his lips and needs to blink several times in a row to stabilize his gaze, and he's still catching his recently lost breath when the King leaves one of his hands on the ground to sit and get comfortable, settling in front of him as the snakes disperse.

"I thought you were a knight but your vocabulary assures me that I am being proven wrong. Furthermore, I don't believe a knight might be able to get here on his own, with nothing but imagined bravery. Are you a king making a fool of me? I don't know you."

Osamu brings his fingers to his neck and caresses the recently threatened area.

A mark will probably remain.

"Taking ya for a fool is not one of my intentions." He assures him by looking at him, and coughs when he listens to the scrape of his voice. "I'm a prince."

An arched brow is the reaction he gets.

"Where is your crown then, Prince?"

"I took it off as a sign of respect towards yer presence."

"A crown or the absence of it doesn't mean anything to me." Osamu looks at the hand that is left between them, long and pale fingers decorated with different gold rings, and he doesn't need the pronunciation of more words to understand that his crown is demanded.

Osamu rests both knees on the ground and unfolds the cord of his pouch to take out his crown. He looks at it and then at the hand still in front of him. The finger movements assure him that he has no choice, so he finally gives it up and two hands quickly though with delicacy, leave the crown on his black locks.

His crown is observed while Osamu watches him.

"You don't represent a threat to me. I don't care if you wear a crown or not, and in fact, I prefer when people are honest with me."

Osamu understands that he was correct in thinking that being honest is a great way forward, even if that hadn't prevented his neck from being threatened.

"Where is yer crown then?" He asks, since he can only glimpse in better detail the small serpents made of gold intertwined with each other to act as a diadem, by no means that being a representation of the present power.

"I don't need one to show who I am or what powers I possess. I have my reputation that speaks for itself, I don't hide."

"Yet you live far away from the rest of the kingdoms," He says, "And you bathe yer body and decorate yer skin with gold."

Osamu looks down at the gold of the scales protecting the width of his shoulders as well as the gold details that interrupt the black color of his cape. A snake-shaped necklace enhances his clavicle in the same way that he ports a gold snake arm cuff. He also understands that despite not being protected like him, an index finger that at that moment lifts his chin, is protected with gold. He feels the sharp edge of the finger armor against his skin but quickly stops feeling that pressure when their eyes meet.

"And blood, or do your eyes only see gold instead of blood? It wouldn’t be a surprise. You choose a crown and a sword." Osamu comprehends that his sword has not been overlooked in the same way that he is aware of the red stains he sees. "You know who I am and I don't need a crown for that." The tip of his finger scratches the silver of his armor. "I've never been able to understand why princes and kings wear such armor when no metal can stop me."

"Well, it's not always about ya. We also fight among ourselves."

"I guess you have a point." Osamu avoids raising an eyebrow at the fact that just a few seconds ago he has come to think that he was about to die while now reason is granted in his favor. "Tell me, Prince, what is your name?"

Despite the question asked, Osamu wonders if anyone else has had the opportunity to hear those words or if so far only he has managed to breathe, to be alive for that moment without having shed a single drop of blood.

"Osamu Miya." He replies.

He looks around to capture more details. More than the sound of their voices and the hissing of the snakes that still linger around them, no sound of any kind can be heard. Only the pulsing fire of the torches hanging on the walls accompanies them. He doesn’t want to wonder where the body whose blood continues to be found on pale skin is.

"I don't see any guards here."

"I know how to take care of myself." Osamu doesn't doubt it. "Although guardians don't always have to be human." He is commented, and the snakes around him seem to take those words as their own after rattling. "What do you want from me?" He finally hears that question.

"Yer name, first."

He thinks he is a fool for simply not answering what he is asked, but the truth is, if he hasn't died yet, then he will continue to take those moments into consideration by pushing his luck. He has learned not to pray to any kind of god, to believe in his own decisions and the reasoning of his head.

"You are demanding already, how brave, or silly? You have to be."

"I think it's fair." He believes in his own words. "I know the nicknames that people have given ya. I have told ya my name."

A short silence and a narrowed gaze is what he gets, but, "Suna Rintarou."

Suna extends his hand towards him.

Without hesitation, Osamu takes the end of his fingers, the tips of his own fingers feeling the metal of the armor that is still protecting his index finger, and their gazes are not lost when a kiss is rest on the back of his hand.

"I liked it when you were kneeling before me."

Despite that comment that doesn’t express innocence, Suna retracts his hand to allow a slight smile to settle on his face. Osamu watches him but Suna nods his head to tell him to keep talking.

"My kingdom needs—"

"The name of your kingdom."

"Inarizaki."

Suna tilts his head. "Interesting, it's the first time I've heard your accent."

"Inarizaki needs yer help. My brother—"

"You have a brother?" Suna interrupts him again.

Osamu swallows, wondering what is better. Lying for Atsumu's safety or expressing the truth, until he realizes that if he really desires to get the help he hopes Suna will give him, then he must be sincere.

"A twin."

A not soothing smile decorates Suna's face.

"Then there are two of you."

"Unfortunately," Osamu responds, trying to ignore that gesture.

Suna arches an eyebrow at his words. "You want me to get rid of him?"

"No, quite the opposite. He is the King and our kingdom is being threatened by a kingdom protected by crows."

"I dislike animals with wings."

"That makes us two." Osamu assures him. "I have come here for yer help."

Suna narrows his gaze. "Why me?"

"I've heard stories of you and yers powers, of what you can do."

He is face to face with Suna because he has heard about Suna being referred to as a monster, which is the reason why he has asked for his name. Suna has abilities that he doesn’t possess, capacities that could give them an advantage in getting rid of Karasuno and the threat they represent as Suna turns out to be a bigger and more dangerous threat just by himself.

"Then you must know that I do not accept to be part of battles and wars that don't correspond to me, as I don't have the energy to waste my time in vain disagreements that could be solved with massacres and the absence of mercy. Why have you come here and not your brother if he is the king?"

"Someone had to stay and—"

"Your life isn't worth as much as his for you are the prince and the second in line, so if I kill you, it won't matter." Suna cuts him off with nothing but the truth.

Osamu straightens up. "You know the rules."

"I know how to break them, to twist them, but sometimes I expect people to follow them. I demand a price in exchange for my help, so tell me, what would I get in return? What could you offer me?"

"Whatever ya want, anythi—"

A finger is rested on his lips to prevent him from continuing to pronounce words that apparently don't carry any value because Osamu can savor the metal taste of the gold that continues to be found on his lips.

Suna looks at him.

"Whoever I want." He corrects him. "Gold, jewels, treasures, lands, territory. I already have all of that. I don't need all that to be satisfied. But I do want, and I do demand, to feel satisfied in exchange for my help, do you understand my words?" The finger stops meeting his mouth to outline his lower lip. Osamu swallows deeply and Suna never stops looking at him once he removes his hand. "Whoever I want, whenever I want."

Osamu understands the words that despite not being mentioned aloud, remain clear. Suna doesn’t want the crops of his lands or the metals produced by his kingdom, neither the manufactured fabrics nor the eccentric objects that only he and his brother know, but something much more valuable that can’t be duplicated yet be thrown away like any other object.

He believes that he has nothing to lose as he has really thought that he would never cross those doors again, breathing and alive. He has decided to be there, being aware that an encounter with death is one of the possible paths to follow though he is still being given a chance. He thinks that the possibility of being close to his end allows him to look around and think in a different way, a way that assures him that he can’t deny that stunned is how he had felt the moment his eyes had rested on Suna.

Osamu approaches him but Suna takes that movement as distrust and brings his hand to his neck, though the reflexes and the quick learning from Osamu gets him to take his wrist to prevent a new mark from being left on it. Suna moves his other hand to try the same action, yet again Osamu manages to surround his other wrist with his fingers at the same time that snakes are soon grouped together around Suna because he is being threatened after being immobilized.

He has no powers and is nothing more than a prince of a kingdom, but he knows how to defend himself from any sudden movement. However, what he seeks is not to defend himself but quite the opposite, and he gets both Suna and the snakes to stop watching him with alert when he softens his grip on Suna's wrists.

Osamu raises his own hands to prove his innocence, but Suna doesn't stop looking at him when he brings those to his sword. He squints his gaze and the edge of his finger armor scratches the ground. Osamu is aware that one more bad move will be enough for two fangs to be somewhere on his skin, but instead of drawing his sword, he chooses to leave the same on the ground. Slowly, knowing that Suna's eyes are fixed on his movements, he reaches for his belt to place another knife next to his sword, and Suna arches an eyebrow.

Osamu again raises his hands and looks at him. He approaches him and Suna moves a few millimeters away, until he realizes that Osamu is being careful with the speed of his movements and remains still. Osamu licks his lips before leaving his mouth inches from his ear, said skin also being decorated with gold accessories.

"Whoever ya want, whenever ya want." He breathes.

He glimpses Suna reacting by transforming his hands into fists free of any tension and straightening up as a sensation of excitement runs through his spine. Seconds are what it takes him to make decisions, take actions, and seal both his destiny and that of his kingdom. He guides his head towards his neck so that his lips meet cold skin, and once Suna leaves both hands between his black locks not to keep him away from him, but to prevent him from changing his mind and backing down, Osamu has no doubt.

He leaves a second kiss on his neck as well as another on his jaw, but his trail of proven affection quickly stops at the traces of blood interrupting the paleness of his cheek. Their mouths come close when Suna turns his head to watch him, silently wondering why he has stopped, until he glimpses Osamu visualizing his face.

"Forgive me."

Suna takes one of the ends of his cape to rub it against his cheek with care, the red disappearing to become part of the black color of his cape. Osamu wonders if he pays more attention, he will understand that the dark color of it is only due to the accumulation of crimes committed.

"I don't know where I have left my manners." Suna adds before looking back at him once he leaves his cape and Osamu approaches him, but Suna stops him by resting his index finger against his chest.

He seems to be thinking for a few seconds, but then states, "You can't kiss me." Despite his words, Osamu looks down at his lips, a gold ring in the middle of his lower lip interrupting its pinkish color. "My mouth. You're not allowed." Suna declares yet the distance between their lips decreases. "You can kiss me elsewhere if you want to."

Osamu believes that having left his kingdom and traveled to be there has somehow made him lose all hint of rationality as he cuts the distance between them to leave a kiss on the corner of Suna’s mouth, making sure their lips don’t brush. He wonders if he is allowed to touch, slide his fingers through porcelain, travel inches of skin with the help of his hands, and his gaze is directed towards the throne behind them.

"There."

Suna follows his gaze, and a slight laugh escapes his lips as he visualizes his throne before turning to look at him again. "Do you think a few kisses will give you the right to sit there?" He asks him. "Many people have done much more for me and have not even set foot in this hall."

"I want ya to sit there." Osamu explains. "You said you liked it when I was kneelin' before ya, didn'tcha?"

Osamu doesn't wonder what he is doing, he lets himself go. He believes that having thought that he would die has made him lose all fear of making a mistake, and chooses to take in his favor the fact that he can begin to enjoy being alive, so he corresponds to Suna's gaze when he squints his eyes for a second and the corners of his mouth lift up.

"You are interesting. Very well, then."

Suna gets up and turns to head for the throne, a glance over his shoulder getting Osamu up as well. Osamu casts a glance at his sword and knife yet his eyes readily rest on the approaching snakes in case he wishes to make a sudden decision, but at no time has he thought about taking his only method of defense, for what he follows Suna.

"Out."

Osamu thinks that Suna has changed his mind after mentioning that word and gesturing with his hand, but he raises an eyebrow when in a louder voice so that there is no doubt, Suna shouts, "OUT!"

The snakes that had begun to move with them hiss when they hear that order and distance themselves from them, separating and quickly camouflaging themselves with the dark color of the place.

"Curious?" Suna asks him once he stops in front of his throne and turns to find him looking at the snakes moving away instead of approaching.

"Powers beyond my understanding and beliefs." Osamu looks at him. "Not being curious would be a sin. They are loyal."

"Too loyal." Suna says, and Osamu can't tell if he's mentioning those words as a complaint or a compliment. "I appreciate it, I appreciate their loyalty. Fidelity, honesty, and manners. So, I'll be cordial and make the situation easier for you."

Standing face to face with little space between them, Suna brings his hands to the straps of his clothing to unclip them and allow the fabric to slide down his skin until it meets the ground. Gold scales continue to hug his shoulders as well as his cape his back, his gold necklace gleams against the whiteness of his skin. Osamu swallows, and believes that so far, the only rule is not to kiss on the lips, so slowly, in case a new rule is created, he slides his fingers through Suna's cape until he takes part of it and he is the one to clean the traces of blood on his torso.

He brings his head to his neck to brush that area of his body with his lips again, and Suna tilts his head to provide better access while bringing his hands to his throat not to press in fear, but to simply have a place to rest his hands once Osamu leaves his free hand on one side of his body.

Osamu begins to trace a path of slow kisses, taking his time to rest his lips on different centimeters of skin, already releasing the cape and now resting both hands on Suna's body to also have the opportunity to feel the definition of his silhouette beneath his fingers.

He begins to lean down as his mouth stops meeting his clavicle and avoids bumping into the gold of his necklace extended in the form of a snake above his chest to kiss his torso, now freed from all traces of crime committed. Osamu’s knees finally touch the ground and his eyes stay focused on the black lines he sees hugging Suna's right hip as well as the outer side of his right upper thigh.

Osamu looks at him as he leaves a kiss on the snake tattooed on his body, and lowers his hands until they remain on Suna's hips, being aware of the already aroused skin in front of his face.

"You are beautiful."

He believes that he is bewitched to perform those actions and mention such words. He is used to situations always turning out the other way when the bed in his room is the place where the closeness of bodies occurs. As he is the prince of the kingdom, people don’t seek to make him angry and therefore not to treat him badly. The delicacy is exceeded and Osamu ends up getting bored.

By finding himself kneeling for the first time, being looked at by eyes as green as golden, he achieves for his fear to be replaced with excitement.

"I know." Suna chooses not to contradict him as he is aware of the look that people give him when they first see him, realizing that he is taken as a monster for his decision-making and the characteristics of his personality, for the way he chooses to turn his facial features and body silhouette into an advantage.

Osamu offers his hand and Suna takes it to sit on his throne, deciding to cross one of his legs over the other as well as rest his arms on the armrests of his throne instead of spreading his legs to initiate the beginning of a more intimate closeness.

"It is not a need for you to show me your loyalty yet, at no time have I stated the specifics of our agreement, you have initiated it."

Osamu caresses one of his legs with his knuckles.

"I think anyone would be a fool to ignore yer charms."

Suna makes sure to lick his own upper lip without any haste, and squints his gaze, not being sure if Osamu is being sincere or just doing and opening his mouth in order to gain his trust and therefore fulfill his end of the deal.

"I don't make anyone do something they don't want to as I despise when someone expects me to do something that I don't intend to do. Are you sure?"

"Are you afraid of fallin' for my charms, King?"

Suna inhales a breath of air upon hearing his question as well as the way he addresses him, and for the same reason he allows Osamu to spread his legs and flex one of them to slide down one of his hands and leave a kiss on his ankle while his other hand caresses the black lines marked on his skin.

Suna scratches the black color of the throne with his nails and the armor on his index finger as Osamu lowers his hand but chooses to caress his thigh as he begins to kiss his leg, covering inches of skin, climbing up until he kisses his thigh and he looks at him as he rests his lips on his skin again.

"You're handsome." Suna mentions.

Instead of saying a word, Osamu shows his gratitude by placing his leg over his shoulder and bringing his hand close to his erection to finally take the base of it with his fingers. Suna licks his lips at the contact and Osamu begins to move his hand up and down. Stimulation is what he wants to give, as well as pleasure is what he seeks to generate as he makes sure to excerpt enough pressure over the head with the help of his thumb, giving slow yet firm strokes. He sees him when Suna raises his head and forces his lips in a line so that he doesn't think the beginning of his movements is paying off, but Suna feels the way his back is strained against the back of his throne and his shoulder blades come together.

"Is your brother just as handsome as you?"

"We have the same face." Osamu chooses to answer, not wanting to be distracted by the fact that Suna asking about his brother isn't a good idea. He seeks to distract him instead, tracing the length of his cock with his fingers. "But I want to believe that my answer is negative."

His knees are at the base of the throne and any attempt to ask disappears once Suna no longer believes that he must control himself so as not to show the sensations produced and a sound scrapes his throat when Osamu takes his cock in his mouth, pressing his tongue against the tip and lowering his head to take more centimeters of heated skin between the reddish of his lips.

He is always used to receiving. It’s true that being the prince of his kingdom gives his shoulders a rest since several responsibilities are taken off no matter if he makes sure to always be next to his brother, ready to question or accept his decisions when it comes to defending the kingdom. But his presence and the crown on his head make people seek to satisfy him, thus making any attempt at emotion unsuccessful for him. Making him feel good is the goal and therefore he believes that any kind of fun is abandoned as there is no tension.

He wants to cause good sensations, he also seeks to be the reason for the moans of others, so when his eyelashes stop meeting and the grey of his eyes finds Suna with his head thrown back against the back of his throne, with his eyes closed and his lips parted to allow the scratching of his throat to become a reality, Osamu doesn’t lose concentration and lowers his head even more, the heat in his mouth not being a sensation to which he is used to but neither something to which he is completely alien.

He chooses to trace the length of Suna’s cock with his lips and then run his tongue over the tip to swallow the taste of pleasant sensations, Suna's sensitivity showing in the hand that stops clenching to the armrest of the throne to bury itself between his black locks.

"You're good at this." The trembling of Suna's voice is followed by a moan.

Osamu licks his lips while his other hand caresses Suna's thigh, soft skin crumbling beneath the administrations of his hands and mouth. He feels Suna's heel against the part of his armor that protects his back, and from the sensation that hugs his stomach and scatter throughout the different parts of his body, Osamu believes that he could get used to the praises that escape the same lips that without hesitation express threats.

"That's good to hear." Being the reason behind Suna's mouth assures him that his body pressed to Suna's is not an image he wants to get rid of. "You're not the only one who doesn't hide under the beds." He expresses, affirming that although one is a king and the other a prince, they are both familiar with the concept of fun once the night replaces the day and touches under fancy covers are welcome.

Suna opens his eyes upon hearing him and their gazes meet.

Suna's face is usually decorated with a smirk when people of all positions kneel in front of him, begging for his help and what his powers can do with the pronunciation of helpless phrases and ineffective lies. As he can consider himself a curse given that most of the occasions people with luxurious crowns on their heads express the pursuit of their own happiness, hoping that in return he will offer his help, he can also think of himself as a blessing when he understands that the fate of several kingdoms and long dynasties depend of his mood and his powers. He is the person who can cancel or proclaim alliances no matter if his kingdom is not in the middle of the map. He takes it upon himself to protect his territory and his own people in his own way, both destroying and creating hope.

And on his knees in front of a throne instead of occupying it as he is used to, Osamu believes that despite having started that moment because he has been forced to accept that he and his brother can't face one kingdom and its forces by themselves, with the help of his own plans and strategy, the chain of his honest words has given him the opportunity to find himself discovering a new world, a place where his actions bring pleasant consequences.

"Then why—" Suna doesn't force himself to close his mouth when Osamu cuts off his sentence, the grip on Osamu's hair tightening when Osamu shows him that the throat that had previously been threatened is capable of taking him far, breathing becoming difficult without the need of a snake menacing his skin. "Then why is it never mentioned to you? You are a prince, people own you compliments."

Osamu believes that Suna is right, and that perhaps that is why he is attracted to him, to lower and raise his head in a cock to provide pleasure as that action also gives pleasure to his own self. A new moan caresses his ears and the tips of his fingers seek to exert pressure on skin so that Suna doesn't destabilize, though that results in his hair being slightly pulled.

His crown remains in place, and the armrest of Suna's throne is ruined.

Although at that time their positions are different because despite the mutual consent, Suna is sitting on his throne while he's kneeling, Osamu thinks that both have control over the situation. He gives and Suna receives, yet he expects to receive the help that Suna has promised to save his kingdom. They pull and push. Hands steadying different body parts, fingers holding onto skin, mouths giving and expressing pleasure.

Osamu pulls back and bites his lower lip, its color glistening. "On the contrary, I always listen to boring compliments." He watches the way in which Suna's chest falls and goes up, skin where there had previously been blood is now covered with traces of sweat. The muscles of his stomach tighten and relax, the definition of his figure and the lines of his tattoo are evidence of what he can achieve with his mouth and hands. He caresses his thigh and his shaft, believing that for Suna vulnerability doesn't appear in the form of nudity, broken moans, and muscles contracting.

"I will let ya see the heaven that yer crimes will never allow ya to reach."

Words produce as many sensations as actions. Joined letters can provoke alliances and wars, emotions of anger and sadness, but also represent temptations if they are pronounced in the correct way, with confidence and the right tone of voice. Truths and lies become one in a world where strategies depend on one's own abilities.

A dry laugh reaches his ears.

"Silly prince, I don't believe in such places, and neither should you."

"I don't believe in gods."

With half-lidded eyes, Suna holds what Osamu believes is a genuine smile.

"Yet you still worry about the destiny of your soul."

"You don't?"

The effort made by his throat turns his voice into a rough melody that catches Suna’s attention although Osamu doesn’t allow him to feel nor show himself disinterested as he keeps on stroking his cock.

"I won't waste my time, I live my life."

"As a King, with people at your mercy, at your feet." Suna is placed in the center of the map without even looking for it, as people approach him for help, sometimes being credulous by believing that Suna will accept a deal rather than get rid of them for the simple fact that he is not interested. "I can't really express if I'm living. People believe I'm always the one who should be satisfied." Despite his royal position, being a prince makes him be seen as a person that no one should challenge, since the frown of his brow can end in a complaint with his brother and therefore one less life that no longer represents a nuisance.

But with Suna, being bored is not an option.

Suna leaves his conformity aside after straightening so that he can lean in and take a part of Osamu's crown to bring their faces close. The paleness of his skin hosts a slight rosy hue and the golden-green color of the scales that decorate his temples gleams, but the words that leave his lips are just as firm in expressing, "Satisfy me then, Prince."

Osamu lowers his gaze to his lips and decorates his own face with a smile although Suna stares at him. He looks back at him to later lean in again, and Suna's fingers promptly take his locks once more. He hollows his cheeks and uses his tongue in the right way, with his hands he caresses where he should, and his mouth follows the proper movements. Suna's moan echoes throughout the place and he soon finds himself swallowing the consequences of what words demonstrated in actions can do.

He feels the trembling of Suna's body beneath his hands and licks his lips once he straightens. He watches Suna taking a deep breath, still with his eyes on him, certainly narrowed although this time not to give him a bad look or to assure him that he is being watched, but because the pleasantness of the sensations has been the same for both of them. Osamu wipes the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand and doesn't mind feeling a discomfort under his armor.

Osamu looks at him as he leaves a kiss on the inner side of the thigh that he is still holding over his shoulder before allowing both of Suna's feet to touch the ground.

He is more than sure that seconds can change his life, since seconds have been those to give him the title of prince and not of king. Seconds is the time that he has taken to accept Suna's words instead of rejecting his deal. And seconds are what Suna takes to approach him and bring his hand to his neck. Osamu raises his head but Suna's fingers soften around his skin as he looks down at the pink color that one of his snakes has left around Osamu's neck.

Suna looks up and tilts his head.

It's not the first time that a beautiful face appears in front of him, nor the first time that he recognizes well-defined muscles despite being protected by armor. He is aware he could have gotten rid of Osamu and his proposal on several occasions, but he also knows that Osamu has expressed wanting help for his brother and his kingdom, and not just for himself. Selfishness has not been the one to accompany his words, but genuine welfare for someone who is not him.

Having expressed that Osamu is not allowed to kiss him on the mouth has not been a tantrum, but a conscious decision since the gloss on his lips is poison and not a simple decoration. One fleeting kiss would lead to lethal death. He has already lost count of all the people he has seen lose their lives right in front of his eyes for believing that offering pleasure is the correct answer.

"You're good to me." Suna says, for the first time wanting the pleasure to be mutual and not a simple failed strategy. "So, as evidence of what I can do, and to show you that I do have manners despite what you've surely heard about me, let me take care of this, of you."

He lowers his hand and a groan is caught in Osamu's throat when Suna palms his growing problem.

Suna wants _him_ , and he wants him _now_.

And who is he to resist a King, who is he to resist Suna?

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


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